


The Attack of The Boop Noodle

by Dusty



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A misbehaving snake, A naughty noodle, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, But only because there's a snake in there, Coming In Pants, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), He gets into Aziraphale's pants, Leg Humping, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misuse of a casserole dish, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Sub Crowley (Good Omens), Wet & Messy, mild hair pulling, sex with Crowley in snek form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 00:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20282053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty/pseuds/Dusty
Summary: Crowley’s Subby misbehaviour nudges Aziraphale into a Dom space. Can I get a wahoo!





	The Attack of The Boop Noodle

**Author's Note:**

> Don't be deceived by the cute title. This is some seriously smutty shit, with borderline bestiality issues.

Crowley was refusing to be man-shaped, it seemed. He was also refusing to be awake. He was therefore asleep in Aziraphale’s slipper, a curled up noodle of a demonic snake. 

‘I see you are being my naughty noodle again,’ chided the angel, who was adjusting his bow tie in time for shop opening hours. ‘Very well, Crowley. Stay here until you’re ready to behave. We’ll talk about it later.’

The tongue flicked out for a second, and Aziraphale narrowed his eyes in warning, but with a sigh, left the snoozing, sulking snake to his own devices.

  
It was a Saturday morning, so there were, unfortunately, customers. It was quite annoying. Aziraphale milled about, ensuring no one read anything for too long, or no one's detestable child was getting sticky fingers on anything. He helped one young lady with an enquiry and unusual book order, and guided an older gentleman to some sports almanacs. It was starting to feel like hard work, so late morning, with just the one lurking customer browsing in the history section, Aziraphale sat down at his desk with a cup of tea.

There was a strange tickle at his ankle, and he leaned down to scratch it, only to be licked. 

'_Crowley_,' hissed Aziraphale. The demon, still a small and rather cute snake, wagged his tale. 

The angel glanced around the shop, checking one of the corner mirrors. The customer was absorbed in something about the Battle of Hastings.

There was another tickle, just inside Aziraphale’s trouser leg, and then as if he'd failed to climb up properly, the sensation of a small snake dropping onto his shoe.

He looked down. Crowley thrashed about for moment, then righted himself, looking dazed.

'Did you just try to climb up my leg?' muttered Aziraphale, as he leaned down to confront his noodle.

The snake looked at him blankly, as if knowing nothing of it. And then started sliding about leisurely on the angel's shoe. 

_That's odd,_ thought Aziraphale. _Maybe something's tickling him._

The sliding about became a bit more purposeful and rhythmic, and the penny dropped. ‘Stop it,’ he warned lightly. 

Of course, Crowley ignored him and continued to rub himself against the shiny leather. The angel gently picked him up and put him on his lap, out of view of the customer. He petted him. ‘Are you going to be good, hmm? There is someone here, you know.’

Crowley did a sort of swirl on the thigh and settled for a moment. But there was a twinkle in those eyes that put Aziraphale on edge. The angel sipped his tea, and kept one hand petting his snake, trying to keep him still and out of trouble.

It didn't last long. Crowley slipped up his thigh and into his crotch, nudging the angel's sex through his trousers. 

‘No!’ he scolded in a whisper, somewhat uncomfortable with having a snake groping him, let alone when a customer could see. Crowley curled up with a defeated huff. 

The customer coughed, footsteps approaching, and Aziraphale deftly picked Crowley up and shut him in a drawer. He turned around as the browsing individual was slowly making his way out.

'Thanks,' called the customer. 'Lovely shop!'

'Oh thank you!' replied Aziraphale, thinking _just leave for goodness' sake_.

The door closed behind the customer and Aziraphale sighed with relief. He opened his desk drawer. That dastardly tongue flicked out again, golden eyes shining up at him.

Aziraphale leaned in close. 'Naughty,' he said sweetly. 'Elevenses?' 

Another flick of his tongue and the snake slid out of the drawer, up the angel's arm and took his rightful place around his neck. Aziraphale snapped his fingers to lock up for a break. 

'Not too much tea, dear,' said Aziraphale, as Crowley darted his tongue into his mug again. 'That can't be good for snakelets. Especially overactive ones.' 

Crowley was becoming restless, running laps around the desk. It would soon be time to reopen the shop. Aziraphale scooped him up to take him off the shop floor, which the demon didn't like at all, and made sure the angel understood this by clamping his mouth around the tip of the angel's finger, threatening a nip. 

'Crowley!' scolded Aziraphale. 'Do you want to spend some time in the casserole dish?'

Aziraphale's casserole dish was a large terracotta coloured earthenware pot with a heavy lid. It was also noodle-Crowley's naughty step. As such, Crowley released the finger, and stroked it with his face to make amends. 

'Good. Then stay in here, please, out of the way. You can come out if you want to, as a human.'

The snake looked rather depressed and slithered over to a heap of recycling, curling up in some broken down cardboard like a neglected Victorian orphan. 

'Very well,' said Aziraphale curtly, ignoring the drama. 'I have work to do.'

The kitchen door swung closed. Crowley sulked.

Now late afternoon, and being a sunny day, people were more inclined towards pubs than bookshops. Aziraphale was waiting anxiously for the couple in the biography section to leave so he could close-up. He'd already turned the sign around on the outside. 

'I'm just going to check the self-help books,' said the small blonde woman, leaving her partner to peruse various autobiography blurbs.

Aziraphale stealthily followed her, just to check how invested she might be in spending more time in the shop. She knelt down to look through a collection of Mind, Body, Spirit materials, but didn't seem to be looking for anything in particular. The angel wrung his hands. He was a little tired, but he was more concerned about Crowley, and how long it would be before he acted out again. Just as soon as he'd thought it, he saw him. 

Still a snake, the noodle was wrapped around a deck of Tarot cards, staring intently at the young woman, his mouth open in a gaping smile, clearly intending to give her a good scare. 

'My dear!' called Aziraphale quickly, and the woman spun around. 'I'm afraid we're closing in five minutes. Is there anything I can help you with?'

'Oh no, I'm just browsing,' she said happily, taking the prompt and rejoining her partner. He on the other hand, was still intent on reading as many blurbs as he could. But at least she was out of that section.

Aziraphale made a bee-line for Crowley and the snake shrank back, but both he and the tarot deck were grabbed and removed from the shelf. Then angel marched into the kitchen, extracted the noodle from the deck and tapped him on the nose with his forefinger. The snake wriggled in response, but Aziraphale squirrelled him into the casserole dish. Before he put the lid down, he gave Crowley a good glare. 'You know what I've told you about scaring customers. You will stay here until I come and get you. Bad noodle.'

The heavy lid clunked down like a stone over a grave, and Crowley curled up in the dark.

There was a loud clunk and a world of light as the lid was removed. It had been a while, as far as Crowley was concerned, but not his worst or longest punishment in the casserole dish. The angel's warm hand reached in for him and picked him up, carrying him out to the shop and Aziraphale's favourite chair. 

The angel studied his snake, who had curled around his fingers, but was subdued and ignoring him.

Aziraphale put him in his lap and gently booped him. ‘How’s my little boop noodle? Shop’s closed. You can come out now.’

The snake appeared to scowl and tried to slip off his lap. The angel caught him and set him back down. Snake looked up at him and slithered up over his tummy and chest. Aziraphale stroked him.

‘There, there, my dear. Be good for me, please. You’re on thin ice, Crowley.’ 

Just like that, Crowley was sitting on his knee, head resting on his shoulder. 

‘There you are,’ said Aziraphale tenderly. ‘How’s my little demon?’

‘You hit me on the nose,’ grumbled Crowley.

‘You were misbehaving, Crowley. And it was a light tap with my finger.’

‘Bastard,’ Crowley added.

‘Would you like a sharper tap, with my hand?’

‘Go on then,’ provoked Crowley, still sulking into his angel’s shoulder. ‘See if I care.’ The angel responded with a nominal smack to Crowley’s thigh. 

‘More?’ he asked his demon, a very strong note of threat in his voice. Crowley understood immediately that more would mean being turned over his knee for a proper spanking on his bare bottom, so instead cuddled up as an act of surrender. Aziraphale nuzzled him. 

‘Come on, sulky pants,’ said Aziraphale. ‘Be a good noodle.’

‘Why can’t you just close the bookshop?’ asked Crowley. ‘We could go anywhere. Yet here we are, arranging things in alphabetical order. It’s boring.’

‘Where do you want to go?’

Crowley moved his mouth to the angel’s ear and breathed hotly into it. ‘In your pants,’ he whispered with a grin. 

‘Hmmm,’ said Aziraphale, trying not to like the idea. ‘I was thinking of Menorca, but if you’d like…’

Crowley unzipped the angel’s fly and shrank back into a snakelet again, slipping deftly into the beige trousers and then the cotton boxers.

‘Oh!’ cried Aziraphale. ‘Crowley, no! No! Bad snake! Oh! That’s good. Oh that’s GOOD! Oh god. Oh GOD.’ The sensations were short-circuiting him. He looked down to see a bizarre amount of activity tenting in his crotch.

‘Crowley! This is wrong. Oh fuck that’s good. I’m warning you! I will… ahhh!’

The snake was wrapping itself around him like a swirling ribbon, rapidly racing in undulating spirals around his tender bits and pieces. The frantic movement was creating its own hum and thrum. He had never felt this particular set of pleasure in such an intense way before. His mind flashed to vibrators and butt plugs which were said to deliver such experiences. He was losing control which was exquisite and awful all at once. 

He tried not to clamp Crowley in place and rut against him. 

‘Crowley that is… bad. BAD SNAKE. Stop right now! Oh stop! Oh DON’T stop. Oh GOD DON’T STOP.’

He was getting the best hand job, no - blow job - no _ snake job _, of his life. He collapsed back in the chair as he helplessly felt his groin build into a supernova, now officially past caring if the whole of Soho heard him, or if he ruined his clothing, or even peed everywhere. This, my friend, was fucking happening.

Aziraphale came _ so _ hard. His hips left the sofa as he arched with the force of his orgasm, which felt like it was being torn from him, the wicked motions of Crowley still blowing his mind as he soaked the front of his trousers with his seed and yelled in a voice he didn't recognise.

The snake eased off, and as Aziraphale regained his senses he felt himself being lovingly nuzzled. He did feel very wet. He unfastened the top button on his trousers and opened them fully, peering into his creamed underwear. It was a mortifying mess, and lolloping in the middle of it was his naughty noodle, suckling contently on the very tip of the angel’s softening penis. He could feel the wicked flicking tongue licking his slit. 

‘Crowley…’ sighed Aziraphale shakily, feeling vaguely concussed. 

The snake wriggled about in the boxers, occasionally darting his tongue out for a taste. The angel reached in and pulled him out, holding him in front of his eyes.

Crowley looked back, very pleased with himself. The angel snapped his fingers and eradicated all evidence of his _ emissions _. 

‘You are in the biggest, the worst, the absolute most severe amount of trouble you can possibly imagine,’ said Aziraphale breathlessly.

The snake wagged his tail enthusiastically. Aziraphale, too dizzy with pleasure to see straight let alone manage his demon, kissed his naughty noodle on the nose and set him down on his thigh while he caught his breath.

Crowley, still a very small snake, starting to undulate right there, head resting pleasantly while the rest of his length writhed frantically. Aziraphale, still recovering, watched with concern that something was wrong, until he remembered what this was. His demon was humping his leg. It was strangely compelling.

‘Oh I know what you’re up to,’ said Aziraphale, lacking the energy to do anything about it. He held out a finger, and the snake flicked his tongue out to lick it, rubbing himself harder.

‘Crowley,’ rasped Aziraphale sternly, desiring more human confirmation between them. 

In a flash, Crowley was human shaped, head still on Aziraphale’s thigh, and just as amorous. He rubbed himself against the angel’s shin as his yellow eyes pleaded for permission. 

Aziraphale gave him a dopey smile and flexed his lower leg and foot to assist. 

Crowley tore his fly open and pulled his leaking cock out to press against the trouser leg, still resting his face on the angel’s thigh.

‘Greedy noodle,’ chided the angel. He spread his fingers into the red hair, alternately giving him soft strokes and sharp tugs.

The demon’s movements continued. ‘I love you,’ Crowley said, quite drunk with arousal. There still appeared to be some cum on his chin, which made the angel swoon. Crowley clung onto the leg and gently rutted, sighing with pleasure.

‘So that’s all you wanted today, hmm?’ asked Aziraphale. ‘You wanted your master’s leg?’

‘Yessss,’ confirmed Crowley, still humping, still sighing. 

‘You like being at my feet? My little _ snek _?’

‘Your _snek_,’ repeated Crowley, breathlessly. He humped a little harder, a little faster. 

‘My horny little demon.’

‘Your horny little demon.’ Crowley gasped and gripped Aziraphale’s leg. His thrusts were becoming erratic, his eyes drifting closed.

‘Mine.’

‘Yours.’ 

No words after that, just gasps and moans, plus the occasional groan of frustration of so desperately needing to come. He rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, and with a surprised little sob, came in creamy bursts against the angel’s leg. 

Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s hair as he watched the demon continue to roll his hips as his seed dribbled down the trousers. Crowley grunted through it, leaning on Aziraphale’s knees for support. He eventually looked up, finally sated. Poor thing had just needed to get off.

The angel was flushed, his face a picture of arousal, his eyes dark with lust. 

‘Oh Crowley,’ he said weakly. ‘I do like you down there.’ 

Crowley grinned impishly, then noticed that the angel was stroking himself back to hardness. _Interesting_. 

Aziraphale noticed that interest. He pointed his renewed erection at Crowley. ‘Suck,’ he said simply. ‘Properly this time.’

Crowley moaned and got into a better position between the angel’s legs. He took him in his mouth fully, and Aziraphale slipped a warm hand in place to cradle the back of his neck. 

‘That’s better,’ said the angel. ‘I don’t think you got it all last time. Do better, please.’ 

Crowley obliged, deep throating him, bobbing on him, tongue lashing against his full length. It was a slower, fuller build of pressure and pleasure, with Crowley sending seductive glances up at his thoroughly dishevelled angel. 

‘I think you need to be schooled better. I’ve been too soft on you.’

The demon raised his eyebrows and sucked hard.

Aziraphale grunted. Having Crowley at his feet was bringing something quite unholy out of him. He rolled his hips, almost wanting to hurt Crowley by thrusting hard. He traced his jaw with a finger, dimly conscious of his own erratic breathing and rising need. 

The demon seemed to be enjoying himself. Aziraphale rutted faster, gripping Crowley’s neck harder. The demon moaned around his cock, eyes warm and welcoming to his angel as if to say, _ do anything to me. _

Aziraphale heard his own moans, still throatier than usual. He kept eye contact with Crowley. He could slap that cheek. Bruise his slutty mouth, perhaps. Come on his face. This wicked demon… his naughty noodle… _this_ _submissive snake_. 

He bucked, coming with a shout, and Crowley took him deep, swallowing every last drop and accepting every deliberate thrust, until the angel’s body started to calm.

‘That’s better,’ growled Aziraphale as he stilled. ‘Drink it all up. Good snek.’ He was panting. Crowley saw a light in his eyes that he really, really liked, and set about thoroughly licking him clean. 

He did a perfect job, and poor Aziraphale was barely conscious by the time Crowley he looked up, proud and waiting for praise. 

The angel smiled. ‘Good boy. _Good_ boy. Now put it back where you found it,’ he said firmly, indicating his flaccid, exhausted penis, which was hanging out of his open trousers.

Crowley smirked and tucked Aziraphale away, using a small miracle to ensure his boxers and trousers were pristine. Aziraphale was decent again. Except for his trouser leg.

‘Leave it,’ said Aziraphale, when Crowley looked like he was going to sort it out. ‘I want to admire it.’

Crowley raised his eyebrows, mouth open in delight. ‘Oh angel. I do like you up there.’

Aziraphale smiled darkly and patted his lap. ‘Come back up here, my dear.’

Crowley obeyed, and settled in his master’s lap. 

‘That was…’ began Aziraphale.

‘Monstrous,’ finished Crowley with relish. ‘I’m tempting you into pure oblivion.’

‘I rather think you are,’ agreed Aziraphale, an edge to his voice. ‘What am I going to do with you?’

‘Anything you want,’ breathed Crowley. ‘Anything.’

The angel hummed, holding Crowley close. ‘My dear, I feel a few days of exhilarating research coming on.’

Crowley sneered. ‘_ Research _?’

‘How to train your demon,’ said the angel, lightly. ‘How to discipline your demonic snake. How to care for your... _sub_.’ He enunciated ‘sub’ very deliberately indeed. 

Crowley inhaled slowly and sharply. He rested his head on his angel’s shoulder. ‘I want a collar,’ he said wistfully. ‘Always thought I’d look sexy in a black velvet choker.’

‘I’m sure we can arrange that. Just, if you’re going to insist on this sort of behaviour, I need to know how to handle you.’ He gripped Crowley’s chin, firmly, but not too hard, and fixed him with his blue eyes, which had turned quite dark. ‘And believe you me, I _ will _ handle you.’ 

He released Crowley’s chin, then lightly booped him on the nose.

Crowley sank into his angel’s arms, boneless and dizzy with bliss. ‘I know you will, angel. I know you will.’ 


End file.
